Chapter One
Luke
For players, girls are a dime a dozen; the coaches, not so much. I must keep my eye on the game. I’ve worked for this my entire life. I played college ball and was even offered a pro contract. But when a misguided tackle ended my career by blowing out my knee, I changed gears, switched my focus and spent the last six years working my ass off. I became the assistant coach to one of the best in the nation. My entire life’s been devoted to learning what I can to help make my dream a reality. When Ray Carson chose to retire due to health reasons, my name was at the top of the list as his replacement. I never actually thought I’d be starting this next season as the head coach for the Rainier Renegades, a team I’ve always wanted to be a part of my entire life. But, in a matter of weeks, that’s what’s happening.
I’ll never forget the day I walked into the owner’s office. I rushed in to be early, unprepared to find everyone already waiting. I’d thought we were meeting to discuss the plans for summer camp. Little did I know they had something else in mind. Thank God, I’d been sitting down when I received my life-changing news.
“Hey, Luke,” Mike Townsend greets, shaking my hand as I enter his office and gestures to the large conference table where I find both Tony Marcelli, our team’s GM, and Ray Carson, the head coach, already sitting. “Why don’t you have a seat. I have some things I’d like to discuss with you.”
Instantly, my gut churns. Being under the impression we’re meeting to discuss the summer camp training schedule and the logistics of getting everyone to camp, the expectant looks on each of their faces makes me think otherwise.
“Okay,” I slowly draw out. “Aren’t we meeting to discuss training camp?” I look from person to person already seated at the table, seeking clarification. But all of their faces remain stoic, giving nothing away. The sorry fuckers. Couldn’t they at least give me a heads-up as to what was coming?
“We’ll get to that,” Mike bellows out as he takes a seat at the head of the table. He rubs a thick hand through his short, graying hair and rolls his chair forward to lean his elbows on the table. Okay, this is serious.
I take in a deep breath wondering where he’s going with this. “All right.”
I’m surprised to find Ray is the next to speak. “Son, you know I had a valve replaced last spring after the championship game, right?”
“How could I not? You nearly gave me a friggin’ heart attack right alongside you, when I found you that day,” I tease in return. Ray Carson has been my hero since I was a kid. To work with him has been a dream come true. I’ve followed his career since he took over for the Renegades. When I began coaching, he took me under his wings and showed me what it takes to coach a team to be champions.
Ray’s gravelly voice begins an explanation, “Well,” he draws in a long breath, “I thought I’d try to make it through another season, but my wife has other ideas. She wants to travel and make the most of the time we have left together.” Ray looks a little sheepish, which is completely out of character for him.
“You’re not going anywhere soon, Ray,” I eagerly remind him. “Your doctor gave you the green light months ago, and I know you work out, so you’re healthy. You have years left in you,” I argue to refute his response.
“Well, I have a couple of championship rings, and more money than I could ever spend. Who knows how much time we all have left? I could be hit by a bus tomorrow, you never know,” Ray states with a shrug. “You know I’m a hard-ass on the field, but when Vivian wants something, she’s ruthless. I’m smart enough to give her what she wants.”
Mike clears his throat. “That being said, I wanted to tell you how much we appreciated you stepping up to fill in for things last spring, while he was recovering.”
“It was nothing any of you wouldn’t do,” I respond automatically. “Just doing my job.”
“Well,” Tony Marcelli interjects, “it didn’t go unnoticed.”
“What would you say to being the youngest head coach in the league?” Mike’s deep voice suddenly fills the room.
The fuck? Did he really just say that? No fucking way. I. Am. Speechless. As my mama would say, I could catch flies with my mouth. Now that my jaw’s dropped to the floor, I may need a shovel to pick it up. Fuck… and CPR to catch my breath. Crickets could be heard from miles away; the room is that silent as they await my response.
“Luke?” Mike says as he places his arm on my shoulder, breaking me from my trance.
“Excuse me?” I manage to get out. There’s no fucking way he just offered me the head coach position. I’m only twenty-nine years old. I won’t even turn thirty until August.
“What do you say, Luke? Do you want to be the youngest head coach in the league?”
“Seriously?” Apparently, I say it aloud.
The room fills with laughter from everyone. “I think you shocked the shit out of him, Mikey,” Ray bellows out. “The boy doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
“I’m as serious as a heart attack,” Mike says again. “No offense, Ray.”
“None taken.”
“Wow. That would be an honor.” I finally manage to get my wits about me. “I thought it would be years before Ray retires. I love the Renegades.”
“We know you do, Luke,” Tony Marcelli states. “We’ve been thinking about this for the past few weeks, and you’re the only one we want to lead this team. You stand out above the rest.”
I take in another deep breath. This is certainly humbling. “Thank you for even considering me.”
“Do you not want this?” Ray asks in disbelief.
“Hell, no! I want this. I’m just thinking aloud, what an honor it is to be considered in the first place. There’s no way I’d pass up this offer!”
I stand and gratefully shake everyone’s hand. I receive congratulations and slaps on the back as I make my way around the room. This is the job of a lifetime. I know I can do just as good of a job as Ray. I know the members of the team, and the inner workings of the Renegades, better than anyone else in the running.
“Glad to keep you around,” Tony states to me as I shake his hand. “I’ll have my secretary send you a new contract, and we can hash out the details later.”
After another round of congratulatory handshakes that morning, we do discuss the logistics of training camp as well as some of the added responsibilities required of me in the coming weeks, since Ray will leave before camp begins. Ray had a lot more responsibilities than I did over the past few years, but I know I can handle it.
Since that meeting, my life hasn’t been the same. The weeks have flown by in a blur. I’m up well before six each day. I work out on my own, eat breakfast then meet with the team by seven. I have meetings all day, work with the team during practices, and plan for the next day with my coaching staff before returning home late at night.
I prefer to get away from it all when I go out to my house on Anderson Island, but since becoming head coach, I’ve stayed in town more often. There’s a ferry that gets me to Steilacoom, just before six thirty a.m., but I’ve been too tired to make the forty-five-minute commute.
Thankfully, this year’s training camp went by without any major complications. Our practice schedule was rigorous, and the team feels in good shape, just coming off the championship win last season. Most of our team consists of returning players, with only a few rookies we’ll test out in the pre-season games as well as some pivotal trades pushed through to help strengthen our O-line and special teams. Our hard work will pay off this fall, once the season officially starts.
To give everyone a break after our grueling schedule during summer training camp, the team has five days off before we come back at full force to gear up for the season. Many players will use this time to be with their families. It’s an unspoken rule that each will continue their workout regimen on their downtime, but they don’t have to be at our practice facilities for the next five days. Most of the members of our team are superstitious as fuck, so I’m sure they’ll continue whatever gets them into their ‘zone’ as a professional athlete.
Myself, I’m looking forward to spending some time away from it all. I’ve been working my ass off around the clock to ensure nothing gets dropped through the cracks as the season begins. I know I need to prove myself not only to my team, but to the entire league, as I’m the youngest to ever do this. There’s been a lot of hype and speculation, but I know the Rainier Renegades are ready, and I’ll be there to ensure they keep the steady momentum we’ve built these past six years since I began working for the team.
I’m not spending the entire five days out at my home on Anderson Island, but I’ll happily spend the majority of my time there. Sure, I’ll review film from last season for the teams we’re playing in the upcoming weeks. Since everything’s digital nowadays, I can do it from the comforts of my couch, just as well as my office at the stadium. But I’ll also spend time enjoying the remaining days of summer in the Pacific Northwest. There are a few projects I want to complete while I’m home, since I’ll have free time to finally get around to them. The team’s charity auction at the local children’s hospital is the Saturday before we report back, so I must head back earlier than I’d hoped.
I pull off the ferry from Steilacoom just after four in the afternoon, and I quickly make my way to my home on the northeast side of the island. I love the land I purchased when I first was hired by the Renegades. I have a phenomenal view of the Sound as well as Mt. Rainier on clear days. I can hear the breeze as well as the water lapping against the shore when I sleep with my windows open at night. Sure, I have central air with my heat pump, but living in Washington, you don’t need AC that many days of the year. Being on Anderson Island, it’s nice to relax and take a break from the hustle and bustle of the city. The back side of my property is lined with trees, so I’m secluded while I’m here, which is a perk. Privacy is something I never thought was a luxury until I took this head coaching position, and my name was thrown into the limelight.
Anderson Island is the home to approximately a thousand residents. Most homes are vacation homes, so during the summer, the population raises to nearly four thousand. The island itself is just under eight square miles. It has a few restaurants and some stores if you need the basics, but if you want an item from a box store, you’ll have to go to the mainland.
Thankfully, I have Evelyn, a woman who lives in the apartment above my detached garage, do my shopping and errands for me. Her young grandchildren live on the island full-time and when her husband passed away a few years back, she was looking for a part-time job close to her daughter so she could help her. I was looking for a housekeeper at the time and with my needs being flexible, it worked out for both of us. I don’t have time to shop or clean for that matter and living on a remote island, it’s necessary to keep things stocked up if I plan to spend any amount of time here.
Within a few minutes of exiting the ferry, I pull into the garage attached to my home and park my Mercedes next to my Jeep. I quickly unload the few things I brought with me and change into a pair of cargo shorts and a black t-shirt from back in my college days. Pulling a beer from the fridge, I prepare my dinner. I’m pleased to find Evelyn has the fixings for steak, corn on the cob, and a baked potato. Not wanting to waste time, I head to my back deck overlooking Puget Sound as well as Mt. Rainier in the distance to turn on the barbeque. Within fifteen minutes, I’m enjoying a delicious meal in complete solitude. I can already tell this is going to be just the break I needed before the season starts.
Chapter Two
Luke
I may be on vacation, but my body’s trained to wake up before the sun each day. I manage to sleep in until six, but beyond that, I might as well be wasting the day away. I get up, change into some shorts and a t-shirt, put my running shoes on, and begin to stretch. I don’t have a state-of-the-art gym out here, but I do have the open road. Well, I do have a weight bench and a few free weights in a spare bedroom, but not much more than that.
I’m out the door within minutes, making my way across the island in no time. Since it’s not a big island, I have a route planned that takes me along the outskirts, maximizing the amount of pavement, so I can get a good run in. The sun’s bright in the sky, and the weather’s warm. As I run, I take in the stillness of the island, since its inhabitants are still enjoying their Wednesday morning from the warmth of their beds. I make my way up and over hills, sharing my morning with the few deer and the birds chirping in the distance. I have one earbud in, and my favorite playlist beats out a rhythm I easily keep pace with.
Rounding the last bend, my heart clenches in my chest as I witness a bad accident. Ahead of me, a bicyclist flies over their handlebars at the bottom of the hill. They go ass over end and skid across the pavement, to an abrupt stop. Fuck, that had to hurt. From the looks of it, they must’ve hit the large pothole on the side of the road. Their tire’s now bent and twisted in an unusual shape. Damn, they had to be cruising down this hill. I pick up my pace to see if I can be of any assistance.
The closer I get, the more I realize it’s a woman who’s fallen off her bike. Thank fuck, she’s wearing a helmet since her head bounced across the pavement a few times. By the time I arrive at the scene, she’s sitting up inspecting the gravel embedded into her knees, palms, and elbows. Christ, that looks awful. Her curly brown hair spills out from her helmet, and her back is to me as I approach.
“Are you okay?” I ask, so I don’t scare her.
“I’ll live, but I don’t think my bike will.” She glances to me then winces as she pulls a large pebble from the palm of her hand. She points in the direction of her bike, and I can confirm for myself, it won’t be in working order anytime soon. “Do you have a phone I can borrow? I seem to have lost mine in the wreck.” I look around the area but have no luck spotting a phone. She takes off her helmet, and her brown hair springs free. It distracts me for a moment because she suddenly takes out her ponytail, shaking her locks free. God, even with dirt in it, it’s beautiful. Her curly hair comes to life with each movement, catching hints of auburn in the sunlight. It’s almost mesmerizing, but eventually, I remember my manners.
“Um, I live just two driveways down. Would you like come to my place to clean up, or maybe I can call someone for you? I left my phone at home this morning, so I’ll have to go home either way before I can help you.” I walk over to her and hold out a hand. “Do you think you can walk?”
“It’ll just be easier if I come with you.” She lets out a groan as pain radiates across her face. I immediately reach out to assist her into a standing position.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask as I steady her. She immediately begins hobbling as weight is put onto her feet. “Here, let me help you.”
As if on instinct, I reach behind her back and under her knees to pick her up. Standing at her full height, she comes only up to my shoulders. She’s a slender woman with curves in all the right places. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s around my age, and she can’t weigh more than 140 pounds. I can easily carry her to my house and get her fixed up in no time.
“Wha… What are you doing?” she stammers as I walk in the direction of my home.
“I’m taking you to my place to get you cleaned up. Then I’ll come back for your phone and bike, to take you wherever you need to go,” I say as I reach the entrance to my driveway.
“But I don’t even know you. You could be an axe murderer for all I know.”
I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. She’s adorable as she attempts to get stern and pin me with her ocean-blue eyes. There’s a girlish presence about her, but her body tells me she’s fully a woman. The short riding shorts she’s wearing have crept up her thighs, and I can tell she works out regularly by the firmness of her beautiful body. Her loose tank has risen as well, revealing a toned abdomen. She’s definitely all woman.
“Well, I’m Luke. I’m pretty sure if I were an axe murderer, the community would’ve found me out by now. It’s a small island. I can promise you, I have nothing but good intentions. I’ll let you sit out on my back deck and tend to your wounds without making you step foot in my house. I have a housekeeper, who lives in the apartment above the garage over there. So, if you’d like to have someone present, I’ll gladly wake her if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
Heat creeps up her face, making it turn slightly red. She is adorable. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Besides, you didn’t have to help. You could have just left me on the side of the road,” she says as she shakes her head to hide her embarrassment. Her hair brushes my bare chest, and my senses go on overdrive. Calm the fuck down, Luke. She’s injured, and you’re only helping her out.
“What kind of company do you keep, if you think I’d just leave you out alongside the narrow road with no shoulder?” I ask incredulously.
“It was a figure of speech,” she deadpans, her eyes narrowing.
“Just checking,” I reply, not knowing what to say. I walk up the steps to my back deck and set her down on a lounge chair.
“Wow, you have an amazing view,” she whispers as I set her down.
“It’s incredible,” I say before I open the French doors to go inside. “I have a first aid kit, I’ll be right back.”
I rush upstairs to my bathroom and return only a few minutes later to find the mysterious woman on my porch beginning to pick out rocks from her palms. She sure is stubborn. “Here, let me help.” I open the kit and look for a pair of tweezers. She appears to just have major road rash, but I should look things over as I help her clean her wounds. She may need a trip to the mainland to an urgent care clinic if anything needs stitches.
We spend the next few minutes cleaning out her gashes. It’s just as I expected, only road rash. It’ll hurt like hell for a few days, but she doesn’t have any major injuries. She does her best to control her winces as I clean out each area. I try to distract her with conversation, though I’m not sure how effective it is.
“So, do you have a name?” I ask as I go through a particularly gnarled piece of skin on her knee.
Embarrassment floods her features. Her face flushes with color, and her ocean-blue eyes are suddenly hidden beneath her long lashes. “Uh, it’s Dani?” she states, making it sound like a question and causing me to narrow my eyes at her. Before I can say anything, she continues, “It’s short for Danika.”
“Well, Dani…” I draw in a deep breath as I attack a stubborn piece of debris from her left knee. “What brings you barreling down the road this early in the morning?”
“I was trying to wake up by getting a workout in. I stayed up late last night working on a project, and I need to get into the zone, so I can continue today.” A look of apprehension flickers across her face, as if she’s revealed too much.
Not sure if I should pry further into what she’s revealed, or let it go, I stick with a safe line of conversation. “Well, let’s get you cleaned up so you can get back to it.”
Dani lets out a groan, and I’m unsure if it’s in frustration or from pain. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to work today,” she says as she shakes her head in disgust. Well, at least she solved that mystery. Her project must be important.
“Why is that?” I ask, genuinely interested in her answer. There’s a look of determination that I don’t find on many others. It’s as if she’s internally kicking herself for getting injured, and I’m not entirely sure why. It was obviously an accident.
Letting out a huff of breath that washes over my chest like a live wire sending electric pulses throughout my body, she states dejectedly, “I have a deadline in the next few weeks that I need to meet. There’s no way I can work on my computer, when I can barely use my hands. God, I was just getting ahead, too. Nancy’s going to kill me.”
“Is Nancy your boss? I’m sure she’ll understand,” I offer, trying to show sympathy.
“No, she’s my editor.”
Before either of us can say anything else, Dani’s distracted by the hydrogen peroxide I pour onto her knee, and she instantly gasps. “Fuck! Give a girl some warning. That shit hurts like a sonofabitch!” She lets out a low hiss, then lowers her voice as “DAMN! FUUUCK! SHIT!!!” come out in a slur of words. She takes in a deep breath and holds it, while I press on the cloth to take the sting away. I can’t help my smile when I realize this sexy woman could curse a sailor out of a bar with that mouth of hers. She’d definitely give the boys in my locker room a run for their money and would certainly make them stand up and listen. I nearly lose it when she suddenly turns tomato red and covers her face with her hands. “I am so sorry,” she mumbles from behind her splayed-out fingers.
“No worries, Dani. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” I can’t help when the corners of my lips tip up. “I’m honestly quite impressed you weren’t cussing up a storm when I arrived on the scene. I watched you go airborne and skid across the pavement.” I can’t help but cringe at the image that replays in my mind.
“God, this is so embarrassing.” She shakes her head and refuses to make eye contact.
I reach my hand under her chin and guide it to make her look at me. “Dani, you have nothing to worry about. Seriously. I just want you to be okay.”
When our eyes lock, I’m not sure what comes over me, but I find myself sucking in a breath to steady myself. What the fuck was that? Focus, Luke. This isn’t the time. She doesn’t seem to be like a girl who is into one-night stands, and that’s all the fuckin’ time you have these days. And let’s face it, you don’t even have time for that. I shake my head and regain control of myself. Sort of.
“I know,” she whispers. “I do appreciate your help. Please know that.”
I release my hold on her chin and try to focus on getting her left elbow clean. It only has a bit of debris in it, so it cleans up quickly. When the last of her battered body is bandaged up the best it can be, I offer her some ibuprofen to reduce the swelling and pain. I quickly make my way into my kitchen for a glass of water and the bottle of pills. Upon my return, she quickly gulps it down and rests back on the lounge chair I had placed her in.
“Would you like to sit here for a bit while I fetch your bike and look for your phone? Here, put your number into mine, so I can search for it easier.” I reach my arm over, handing her my phone.
Without any hesitation, she dials her number. When she places it back in my hand, I notice she’s already pressed send and hung up. “I’ll be right back,” I say to her as I hop off my porch and jog down my driveway.
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